Why are we always prone to attachments? We know full well how difficult it is to detach ourselves from what we know is unthinkable, what simply can’t be done … Yet, we allow ourselves to be held, held in a sense that somebody holds power over us. It’s like some sort of surrender. Like a white flag being waved without any hesitations. We must secretly adore the feeling, that much is obvious. Another irony of human emotions - a love/hate relationship with something so torturous, something so complex, yet so beautiful at the same time. Aren’t we funny creatures, we develop fondness toward the forbidden, we find poison in the acceptable.

It’s sad, come to think of it. Sad how gullible we are. How people effortlessly capture our own selves, how we struggle momentarily but give in to it all. It’s more than a series of what-ifs, of “shoulda, woulda, couldas” … Oh, ain’t love grand. It is just so confusing how smart we think we are, & how a single soul can knock that thought down & prove our defeat.

Deja-vu.

Here I am again, on the same road, with the same thoughts, the same musings, the same heart. It is the same sad song all over again, the same story.

That old quote that did me harm:
“There is something charming about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.”

So many hours spent pondering. Those nights that suddenly become dedicated to writing, o thinking, to missing. It’s so mind boggling that once more I’m in the same scenario. There is so much mystery, not to mention that it always finds it’s way toward me. I’ve seen too many sad endings, I’ve heard too many heartbreaking, gut-wrenching stories of unrequited love, of failed relationships, of never knowing …

Should I unearth that trusty old journal I used escape to? Should I go back to “that old playlist”? I shouldn’t, but I seem to want to. Doesn’t make any sense, does it?

I won’t.
I can’t.
I shouldn’t.

Oh, but I am.